Doctor Who_ Wolfsbane - Jac Rayner [47]
She began delicately to lower herself into the hole once more. She rested a bloody hand on the side of the pit, leant on it to stop herself from slipping, despite the pain.
The earth heaved.
Book spines cracked as Sarah landed flat on her back, breath shot from her, walls of wood and earth seeming to rise for miles around her. She didn‟t know what had happened.
And then the earth heaved again and the lid of the coffin was jerked from its precarious resting place and slammed back to its home, making the coffin whole once more, and the earth shook and shook and thudded into the hole, on top of the coffin lid, on top of Sarah, and there was nothing she could do.
Chapter Eight
Buried Alive
Stop breathing! No, no, no, don‟t stop, just breathe more calmly, more shallowly, don‟t use up all the air. How much air in a coffin? Maybe six foot by two foot by a foot - but angled sides, a six-sided shape, take that into account, need a calculator, don‟t need a calculator, just work it out carefully - don‟t need a calculator, because even if you knew how much air there was, you don‟t know how much air a person needs, don‟t know how long it will take for you to die.
Minutes, at the longest, though. Hard to breathe already. But warm now. Or cold still? Couldn‟t really tell, couldn‟t really feel anything any more.
Try to raise hands to push up lid. No room, can‟t get any strength in them. Coffin would be small enough anyway, not made for people to get comfy in, but books making the space smaller still, nose almost touching the wood. Couldn‟t push the lid up anyway, not strong enough, not strong enough when there‟s a ton of earth on top. Hopeless. Seconds to live.
Space is collapsing, closing in all around. No air even to scream.
Emmeline was restless. The Doctor told her to sit still, as though she were a small child. She tried to do as he said.
She was happy to be out of the research centre or whatever place of evil it was, but less enthused about the specific trip they were making. She could feel the land below, as restless as she was - no longer fully awake, but tossing and turning as it tried to settle down again without success.
The Doctor drew up the car right outside the main entrance of the Rose and Crown and bounded out. He was inside the bar in three strides. Emmeline stayed in the passenger seat.
A month ago, she would not have left the house without make-up. Now, she was covered in blood and dirt, her clothes were torn and rashes of oozing sores covered the exposed skin. Silver wounds were not quickly healed like other injuries. She‟d tried to clean herself up as best as possible in the car, spitting on the Doctor‟s clean white handkerchief, but it had only spread the offending substances around. She really resented how difficult it was for humans to clean themselves with their tongues.
She leant forward slightly, hoping her long and messy hair
- normally arranged in an elegant chignon - would, in conjunction with the darkness of night, shield her face and conceal her identity. Not because she didn‟t want people to see her in such a state, although she didn‟t. Because she didn‟t want people to notice her at all. After all, last time she had seen the villagers, they had been trying to tear her limb from limb. And then, of course, she had started ripping out their throats.
The Doctor came back out, but was not accompanied by the young woman he‟d gone in to fetch.
„She‟s not there,‟ he said, throwing himself back into the car.
„But it is the middle of the night!‟ said Emmeline, aware of the irony of a werewolf being surprised at midnight wanderings. „A young girl should not be out alone at night.‟
„Oh, Sarah can take care of herself.‟ he said breezily. There was a pause.
„You wanted to add “at least there are no werewolves”,‟ said Emmeline. „I could tell.‟
„I never joke about serious things,‟ said the Doctor. She knew that he was not telling the truth.
The car took off again, the Doctor making no concessions